Story teller from my preliterate days. I write them down now
The boys never did what I told them right. Mom had locked us in the bedroom for naptime, even though none of us were sleepy. It wasn’t fair. I…
Iron tang, words clang in memory.
A tender caress drifts down my spine
Thoughts crowd and peck like hungry birds, leaving bloody streaks across the mind. No amount of mental hand waving disperses them.